


Turkey in the Yard

by Xaidread



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-13 15:56:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9131377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xaidread/pseuds/Xaidread
Summary: Connor captures a turkey bird.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This work was first posted on tumblr.

Ratonhnhaké:ton does not often see free range animals on the property of the manor save for the dog, whom he calls Erhar for lack of a better name. Perhaps he will give her a worthy name once he comes up with one; names are not to be taken lightly after all. Puzzling as it is, Achilles called her Richard, when he calls her anything, which Connor understands it to be a man’s name. Several men, in fact, as there was a King Richard in the time of one of the great masters. Maybe Erhar was one Richard in a great lineage of them, for Achilles is of a venerable age and has been master of the Homestead for longer than Connor has been alive.

In the cities, many animals walk the streets. With each visit, he meets and becomes friends with many, even if it’s for only the particular day he sees them. He is fond of them. He doesn’t think about it when they aren’t on his route to wherever he must go. His heart will break.

Today, an immense turkey wanders the property. When Richard-Erhar approaches the bird, he puffs up almost twice his side and spreads his feathers. Richard-Erhar gives an alarmed call as she jumps back. With her tail between her legs, she runs yipping to the empty stall where, years ago, he had camped out. Successful in having scared away a threat, the turkey deflates just enough to strut at the front of the house. A corner of Connor’s lip fractionally curls down in his search through memory. He hopes Prudence and Warren did not lose this prize. Just in case, he withdraws from the window to prepare for capturing it. There is a sack, now emptied of vegetables relocated to the table. There is his bait. It is not often that he rounds up animals, but the sooner he returns the turkey to them the fewer their grievances become.

He peers out through the window once more. No turkey, but this can be fixed.

Outside, the door shuts behind him and there is no need to lock it. Dark eyes scan from his left to the right and back again, but no great bird can be found at the front. He bends down to search for tracks on the ground, focusing with the Eagle’s Sight. The tracks lead to the manor’s far side from the stables. Stopping right before he turns the corner, Connor looks around it and is glad that he will not have to go far. He tosses the bait and whistles for good measure to catch his attention before retreating out of sight.

The bait draws in the turkey well. He waits and allows for the turkey to feed for a time before springing forth and sacking him. The sack nowhere is close to enveloping the entire turkey, but he is blinded with a covered head and nowhere to go. Connor grasps him by the sides, checking the wings, and lifts the bird off the ground.

“It is time for you to return,” Connor tells protesting bird.


End file.
